Франц Кафка - The Unhappiness of Being a Single Man - Essential Stories

The officer quickly got a grip on himself. “I wasn’t trying to influence you emotionally,” he said. “I know it’s impossible to make someone now understand what those times were like. And after all, the machine’s work continues and it speaks for itself. It speaks for itself even if there’s no one else here. And at the end, the body will still make its strangely gentle descent into the ditch, even if there are no longer hundreds of flies gathering around it like there used to be. Back then, we had to put up a handrail around the ditch; it’s long gone now.”

The researcher wanted to turn his face away from the officer, and looked around aimlessly. The officer thought he was looking at the empty valley; he took the researcher’s hands, moved round to catch his eye, and asked, “So you can feel it, then, what a disgrace this is?”

But the researcher said nothing. The officer left him alone for a moment. With his legs wide apart, his hands on his hips, he stayed quiet and stared at the ground. Then he gave the researcher an encouraging smile and said, “I was standing nearby yesterday when the commandant invited you to watch. I heard the invitation. I know the commandant. I understood the point of the invitation right away. Although he is actually powerful enough to act against me, he doesn’t dare, and instead he wants to expose me to the judgment of a respected outsider like yourself. It’s very calculating of him; this is your second day on the island, you didn’t know the old commandant or his thinking, you’re imbued with European attitudes, you might even be a principled opponent of the death penalty and especially of this kind of execution by machine; moreover, you’re watching this execution be carried out without any public participation, sadly, on a run-down machine—and taking all these things together (this is how the commandant thinks), isn’t it very possible that you would disapprove of this process? And if you did disapprove of it (I’m still speaking about how the commandant thinks), perhaps you wouldn’t keep that to yourself, because you presumably have faith in your well-honed convictions. You must have seen many idiosyncrasies among many different peoples and learnt to be respectful, so you probably won’t speak out with full force against this process in the way you would at home. But the commandant doesn’t even need you to do that. If you just said something in passing, one careless phrase, that would be enough. It wouldn’t even need to express what you really think as long as it seemed to correspond to his ideas. He’ll question you with all the cunning he can muster, I’ve got no doubt of that, and his ladies will sit in a circle around you with their ears pricked up. You might say, for example, ‘In my country, the judicial process is rather different,’ or ‘In my country, the accused is examined before sentencing,’ or ‘Our prisoners are allowed to know their sentence,’ or ‘We have several punishments other than the death penalty,’ or ‘We only had torture till the Middle Ages.’ All these comments are absolutely correct, and to you seem like innocent, matter-of-fact statements that don’t touch on my work here. But how will the commandant react to them? I can see him now, the good commandant, quickly pushing his chair aside and hurrying out onto the balcony; I can see his ladies streaming after him; I can hear him talking—his ladies say he has a voice like thunder—and what he’ll say is: ‘An eminent Western researcher studying judicial systems around the world has just said that our traditional way of doing things is inhumane. Having heard this opinion from such a prominent expert, I can naturally no longer allow that process to continue. I hereby decree, with immediate effect, that…’ and so on. You’ll want to intervene, you didn’t say what he’s announcing, you didn’t call my process inhumane, on the contrary, because of your deep insight you think it’s the most humane and most dignified you’ve ever seen, and you also admire the actual machinery—but it’s too late; you can’t even get out onto the balcony, which is packed with his ladies; you want to raise a protest; you want to shout; but a lady’s hand holds your mouth shut—and I and the old commandant’s work will be lost.”

The researcher had to suppress a smile: so it would be that easy to complete the task he’d thought would be so difficult. He said evasively, “You’re overestimating my influence; the commandant has read my letter of recommendation, he knows that I’m not an expert in legal procedures. If I expressed an opinion, it would just be the opinion of a private individual, with no more weight behind it than anyone else’s, and anything I said would certainly count for much less than the commandant’s opinion, since, as far as I understand it, he has very far-reaching powers here in this penal colony. And if his mind is made up in the way you think, then I’m afraid the end has come for this process, regardless of any opinion from me.”

Had the officer understood yet? No, he hadn’t. He vehemently shook his head, glanced at the condemned man and the soldier—who both jumped and stopped eating the porridge—went up very close to the researcher, not looking him in the eye but staring at some point on his jacket, and said more quietly than before: “You don’t know the commandant; your view of him and all of us here is bound to be—forgive me for saying so—a little naïve. Believe me, your influence here can’t be overstated. I was happy when I heard that only you were going to watch the execution. That order of the commandant’s was supposed to hurt me, but now I’m turning it to my own advantage. You haven’t been distracted by any lying whispers or critical expressions—which would be unavoidable if there was a bigger audience for this execution—you’ve listened to my explanation, you’ve seen the machine and you’re about to watch the execution itself. You’ve probably already formed your opinion, but if you have any niggling doubts, I’m sure that watching the execution will put them to rest. So I ask you: help me with the commandant.”

The researcher didn’t let him go on any further. “How can I?” he exclaimed. “That’s impossible. I can’t help you any more than I could do you harm.”

“You can,” said the officer. The researcher noticed to his alarm that the officer had clenched his fists. “You can,” said the officer again, even more insistently. “I have a plan that is sure to work. You believe that you don’t have enough influence. I know that you do. And even if you were right, shouldn’t we try anything we can to preserve this procedure, even if it turns out not to be enough? So listen to my plan. For it to work, it’s important above all that for the rest of the day you give away as little as possible about what you think of the machine. If no one asks you directly, don’t offer any opinion; anything you do say has to be terse and ambiguous; you want them to get the impression that it’s hard for you to talk about it, that it has left you feeling bitter, that if you said something, you would have to lash out with all kinds of criticisms. I’m not asking you to lie; not at all; you should just give short replies like, ‘Yes, I saw the execution,’ or ‘Yes, I heard all the explanations.’ That’s it, nothing more. And after all, there’s more than enough reason for you to feel bitter, even if not in the way the commandant will assume. He’ll misunderstand completely and think that you agree with him. That’s where my plan comes in. Tomorrow, there’s a big meeting of all the senior officials, chaired by the commandant. As you’d expect, he has managed to turn those meetings into a piece of theatre. He’s had a gallery built for spectators, which is always full. I’ve got no choice about taking part in the discussions, even though they make me shudder with disgust. Now, there’s no doubt you’ll be invited to the meeting; if you stick to my plan for the rest of the day, instead of just inviting you they’ll be pleading and insisting. If, for some unforeseeable reason, you’re not invited, you’ll have to ask for an invitation; there’s no question that you’ll get one. So tomorrow you’ll be sitting in the commandant’s box, next to his ladies. He’ll keep glancing up to reassure himself that you’re there. After a few meaningless and absurd points of debate staged for the spectators—usually about developing the port, it’s always about port development!—they’ll start talking about the judicial process. If the commandant doesn’t move things in that direction, or doesn’t do it soon enough, I’ll make sure that it happens. I’ll stand up and make my report about today’s execution. Very short, just to say that it has taken place. My report isn’t usually like that, but it will be this time. The commandant will thank me, as always, with a friendly smile and then, he won’t be able to help himself, he’ll grasp the opportunity. ‘We’ve just heard,’ that’s what he’ll say, or something like it, ‘We’ve just heard an account of yesterday’s execution. I would just like to add that this execution was watched by the great researcher and judicial expert who, as you all know, is currently doing us the honour of a visit. This meeting today also has an extra significance because he has decided to join us. Shouldn’t we ask this great expert for his impressions of our traditional mode of execution and the legal procedure leading up to it?’ Of course there’ll be applause from all sides, a general consensus; I’ll be the loudest. The commandant will bow to you and say, ‘Then, on behalf of everyone here, please do tell us what you think.’ At that point, you step up to the railing. Make sure you place your hands where everyone can see them, otherwise the ladies will start playing with your fingers. — And now, finally, it’ll be your moment to speak. I don’t know how I’m going to get through the hours before it’s time. In your speech, you shouldn’t hold back in any way, be noisy with the truth, lean forward over the railing, shout, yes, shout your opinion, your unshakeable opinion, at the commandant. But perhaps you won’t want to do that, it’s not in your character, perhaps in your country people behave differently in these situations, that’s fine too, that’ll do perfectly, whisper your opinion so that only the officials right beneath you can hear it, you won’t even have to mention the lack of spectators at the execution, the screeching wheel, the broken strap, the disgusting block of felt, no, I’ll take care of all that, and believe me, if what I say doesn’t send him running out of the hall, it’ll force him to his knees till he has to pay homage: old commandant, I bow down before you. — That’s my plan; will you help me carry it out? But of course you will; more than that, you have to.” The officer grabbed the researcher by both arms and, breathing heavily, stared him in the face. He’d yelled the last few phrases so loudly that even the soldier and the condemned man had begun to pay attention; they couldn’t understand anything but they left off the food and, still chewing, looked over at the researcher.